a parade of stars
by TheLostRelic
Summary: "Sometimes, he likes to look up at the stars and imagine she's up there, dancing. Maybe she's teaching the stars how to dance. That's why they twinkle - they're all twirling and spinning just like she used to. Maybe he'll join her there one day. Then they'll dance there forever, an endless parade of stars, dancing to the divine song of eternity against an infinite black oblivion."


**a parade of stars**

* * *

_The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings._

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The boy with sea green eyes watches, enraptured at how she twirls. It's like seeing a queen dance: regal and elegant, proud and beautiful, flowing and limber. Everytime she spins, her long raven tresses spin with her, completing a circle.

He's much too short. He has to tip-toe to see her through the window in the studio, and even though his feet hurt afterwards, it's all worth it. He's been doing this for weeks now, but he's absolutely certain that he'll never tire of seeing her dance.

There are other dancers, but to him, there is only her. None of the others matter because they can't dance like she can, like water flowing through a river bed. It's simply marvelous to him, the way her feet carve patterns in the ground, making circles, eights, and lines.

His fraying shorts do nothing to protect him from the crisp autumnal winds, but he doesn't care. The tall, mean lady shouts for everyone to "assume their positions," and turns on the music again. The girl dances again, not missing a beat, without complaint. She's been dancing for hours, but to him, it feels like seconds.

One day, she notices him staring at her with wide eyes through the window. Her ochre gaze flashes when she locks eyes with him as she spins, and her hair fans out like always. He feels afraid. He doesn't want to scare her. He wants her to like him. Maybe they can be friends. They can't be friends if he scares her.

After she's done dancing for the day (he doesn't know how long), he wonders if he should run away, like he does from the bullies. He decides to stay. Maybe he wouldn't mind getting beaten up by her as much as when the bullies do it. He doesn't like bullies. He hopes that she isn't one.

She walks out and stands in front of him, moving just like she dances: fluidly. He looks at her, and blinks a few times. He wants to turn away, but she's looking at him without blinking.

"Why are you looking at me?" she asks. He tells her he doesn't know.

"Who are you?" she asks. He tells her his name.

"Mommy told me not to talk to strangers. Didn't _your_ mommy tell you not to talk to strangers?" she asks. He doesn't tell her that he doesn't have a mommy. Instead, he just remains silent.

She looks at him again, scanning from head to toe. She wrinkles her nose, and he feels his cheeks heat up. He thinks that she looks very pretty when she does that.

"You need a bath," she exclaims, nodding once as if to acknowledge her own statement. He nods too just because she did.

She tugs on his hand, but he stands where he is. She looks at him with arched eyebrows. When he still doesn't move, she sighs. "Do you want your bath or not?" she asks impatiently.

He slowly nods once.

"Then come on! Sheesh, slowpoke!" she kids, laughing at her statement. He smiles too. He doesn't laugh much.

She tugs on his hand again, and this time he follows. They both walk in silence until she turns around with a thoughtful look. "You don't talk much, do you?" she asks.

He shrugs.

She nods once in affirmation. "I like that. Most people don't shut up. Oops. Don't tell mommy I said that," she says before giggling.

He nods even though he doesn't know what he isn't supposed to tell her mommy.

"I'm Reyna by the way," she says before skipping on ahead of him, leaving him to run after her.

_Reyna_, he thinks. He likes the way her name rolls off his tongue. It fits her. He likes it. He likes her. He hopes she likes him.

_Reyna_.

~oOo~

He's older now. She's older now. He doesn't have to stand on his tip-toes anymore to see her through the window. Now, she knows that he watches her. Sometimes, if he is lucky, and she's on a break, she'll look over at him and smile. Then he feels really warm and tingly inside. He likes it.

After she's done dancing, she'll come out, and talk with him. Well, she would talk mostly, and he would listen. He doesn't like talking much, but he loves to listen, especially to her. He thinks that she sings when she talks. At least, that's what it sounds like to him.

Most of the time, they don't really talk much. They both don't really like talking. They listen in silence. Sometimes, if he listens hard enough, he thinks that he can hear her heart beat. He doesn't know if he confuses hers for his sometimes since his heartbeat gets real loud whenever he's around her.

There are times when she calls him her friend. She never says it to him, but she says it to everybody else; like her mom (she doesn't call her "mommy" anymore) or the mail man or the grocery lady. He really likes it when she calls him her friend. That's even better than her smiles, and that's kind of impossible. No one has ever called him "friend" before. He decides he likes it. He likes it a lot.

One day, she comes out of her lesson to see him standing there as always, and she frowns.

"Don't you ever get tired standing there?" she asks. He shakes his head no.

"Why don't you ever come inside? It's really cold out here," she says. He tells her that it's nothing she should worry about.

She frowns, and stays silent for a while. He scuffles his toes against the pavement, looking down. It's hard for him to look people in the eye since that gets him into lots of trouble out on the streets. Sometimes, she would have to force him to look at her by taking his face in her hands. That sends tingles shooting like stars all through his body. He's not sure if he likes that or not.

"Do you want to learn how to dance?" she asks real softly. He blinks once or twice. Would he like to dance? He tells her that he doesn't think he would be very good.

She giggles, and says, "Of course, silly! Everybody's bad when they start! I was too." He tells her that he doesn't believe her.

She frowns. "Why?" she asks. She doesn't like being called a liar. He tells her that she could never be a bad dancer. She slowly blinks once, and smiles real big.

_Oh golly_, he thinks.

"Come on! I'm going to teach you how to dance," she says, tugging on his hands. He blinks, and then follows her, like he always does.

~oOo~

_This is real hard_. That's what he thinks the first time he dances.

She helps him move his feet not so badly, but he still trips and falls. She moves his hands up, and shows him the twisting motion she always does. He tries it about four times before he gets it. He looks up at her, and he's pretty sure he has stars in his eyes. When she smiles back, he thinks that he's died and gone to heaven.

It takes a long time, but by the end of the day, he sucks, but not nearly so much. She smiles again when it gets dark, saying, "I've gotta go before mom freaks out." He doesn't like the way she says "mom," like it's a bad thing. He wishes that he had a mom. All he has is his box on 7th avenue. He doesn't say anything anyways.

When she leaves, he stays there in the alleyway for another second before he starts dancing again. He practices for so long he doesn't know that the sun has come up again. He's not even tired, so he dances some more. He keeps dancing until she comes to the dance studio. He goes back to his window again, and he looks in like he always does. Unlike before, he tries to memorize all the movements that the dancers are doing. They are really difficult. He falls when he tries to do them. Maybe she'll teach him more today.

She does.

He keeps dancing after she leaves. He dances every day. He dances every night. He dances every week. He dances every month. Soon, he's danced a whole year.

Sometimes, he just dances without thinking. He doesn't do any steps that she tells him to do; he just dances. He moves round and round until he gets dizzy, and spins and jumps, and he decides that he likes it. He likes it a lot.

She thinks that he's getting a lot better. One night, she walks past his street to eat dinner with her mom when she sees him in the alley by the studio, dancing.

She comes over to him, and says, "Why're you still dancing?" He tells her that he didn't know he was still dancing.

She frowns (she does that a lot). "How didn't you know?" He tells her that he just started, and didn't stop.

She says, "I don't understand." He tells her he's just dancing, and that there's nothing to understand.

She can understand that. She smiles, and turns to leave before turning around again. This special look comes into her eyes, and he's pretty sure he can see stars in her eyes now too. Then, she hugs him, and he doesn't know what to do, so holds her too and twirls in place. She laughs, and it's bright like the sun.

He decides he likes her hugs. He likes them a lot.

~oOo~

One day, a man with a black hat sees him dance in the alley. He stops quickly, and watches him. He doesn't even know that the man with the black hat is watching him. He doesn't know much of anything when he dances. He rarely does the steps that she does anymore; instead, he makes his own steps. Sometimes, he doesn't even know he's made them, and he never does them again. He never does the same dance twice.

He's older now. She's older too. When he looks at her now, he thinks, She's pretty. He used to think that she was just adorable, and liked her dancing more. Now he likes them both the same. He likes them a lot.

"Young man, where'd you learn to dance like that?" The man with the black hat asks. He tells him that she taught him.

The man strokes his beard, and wonders in silence. "How'd you like to dance for me, young man?" he asks. He tells him that he would love to, but only if she can dance with him.

The man strokes his beard, and wonders in silence again. "Fine. Come see me soon," he says, and he gives him a square piece of paper. He blinks, and says that he'll get there as soon as he can. The man with the black hat laughs a big, booming laugh, kind of like Santa Claus, ruffles his hair, and leaves.

He looks at the square card. He can't read the squiggly lines. They seem to like dancing as much as he does. He needs her to read them for him. He needs to wait until tomorrow.

~oOo~

She reads over the card at least eight times before looking up at him. "Do you know who this is?" she asks quietly. He tells her of course he does; he's the man with the black hat.

She smiles real small, and shakes her head. "He used to be a professional dancer. Now he owns a studio. He wants you to dance for him," she explains. He tells her that she's dancing with him too.

She blinks twice before running forward, and hugging him real hard. He likes this. He likes this a lot.

They dance for the man with the black hat, and he is very happy with them. He's so happy that he lets them both dance by themselves on a stage. It's a real big stage. He's not sure that he likes it. He likes the alley way much better, but she tells him that no, this stage is much better than his alley way. Because it's her, he listens.

After many months of dancing, they have to dance in front of a lot of people. His brain turns off like always, and he just dances with her. He's never danced on a stage before. He's never danced with her for real before. When they're done, everyone screams his name. He notices that they don't scream her name as much, so he hides behind her so that she'll get some of the praise too. After all, she did teach him how to dance. He's kind of scared of all the screams, but she looks at him and smiles real big, so he decides it isn't so bad.

She's still smiling real big when they walk to her house that night. Her mom is making burritos. He's had her mother's burritos before. They are good. He likes them.

She says, "You did really well. Better than me even." He tells her that doesn't make sense; he can't dance better than her. She looks at him with a hard expression on her face, and then she kisses him. His entire body fills with lightning, and he feels like fireworks are going off inside his body. His heart dances.

_Wow, _he thinks. He tell her that's what he thought. She smiles shyly, and runs to her house.

He stands outside for a while before running after her. He feels like a star. He's certain he likes it.

~oOo~

It's many years later, but they still dance together. Now they do it in a fancy college just for dancing. He likes it. He likes it a lot. They buy an apartment together, and they dance together in there all the time, just the two of them, away from the world. And everytime he holds her in his arms, he feels like he's flying across the sky. He can't decide if he loves dancing more than her. He's pretty sure if he had to choose, he'd pick her.

One day, she gets sick. He makes her some tea since she likes it so much. He think tea tastes funny so he doesn't drink it. When tea can't make her better, he takes her to the doctor. The doctor tells him that she is very sick. He asks how sick. The doctor tells him, "Too sick."

She looks up at him, and smiles softly, her face glowing like the sun. "It's alright, honey."

He's confused. It's obviously not alright. He tells her so, but she laughs. For the first time, he gets mad at her. He tells her to stop laughing, and then he cries. She holds him close, and rocks him back and forth. She whispers little things to him that make him feel better, but he still hurts. It hurts deep inside his heart. Like a tear, ripping and twisting in opposite directions. He really doesn't like it.

She dies slowly. They still dance every day, but near the end, she can't dance anymore. They both cry for hours that day. Something inside him snaps, like a glass vase cracking in two. Everyday that passes, the cracks get bigger, until one day, he comes into her room with her favorite soup. He feeds her some like he always does, but she won't open her mouth. He tells her to wake up. She doesn't. He thinks she's having a really nice dream, so he waits for an hour. He tells her to wake up again. She doesn't.

He touches her skin, but it's cold. So, so cold. And that's when he knows. She's dead.

~oOo~

He sees her dancing in everything. He sees it in the wind. He sees it in the ocean. He sees it in the lightning. He sees it in the rain. He sees it in the stars. Maybe she'll even teach the gods how to dance.

Sometimes, he likes to look up at the stars in the night and imagine she's up there, dancing. Maybe she's teaching the stars how to dance. He reasons that that's why they twinkle. They're all just twirling and spinning just like she used to.

Maybe one day he'll join her there too. Then maybe they'll dance there forever, an endless parade of stars, dancing to the divine song of eternity against an infinite black oblivion.

He decides that he likes that idea. He likes it a lot.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, this is like the opposite of my writing style so it was a challenge and a half. I tried to be really bare with my sentences. I didn't ever use Percy's name, and I refrained from mentioning Reyna's too. Percy also never talks the whole story. Clarification: Percy's not stupid; I just wanted really instinctive, non-emotional thinking. By stating things honestly, they seem almost lifeless, but they still induce a reaction. It's really bizarre, but I think it's cool. I like writing this way a lot, but it's not for me. I was just dabbling with different styles. Tell me what you think of it. I hope you enjoyed it and as always: Follow, Favorite, and Review!**

**PS: ****The title is inspired by the collaboration project between MaydayParade and Allstarry, so kudos to them for being so awesome at naming stuff - I totally ripped them off. **


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